


You Said You'd Grow Old With Me (but maybe it's ok if I grow old without you)

by Obsidian_Arrowhead



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (;, (also, AH - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, BokuAkaKuro isn't meant to be a rebound, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five Stages of Grief, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted to make sure (:, I love yall, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, Muteness, Or not, Sad Kozume Kenma, Sad Kuroo Tetsurou, Selective Muteness, Selectively Mute Kuroo Tetsurou, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Notes, Unrequited Love, Young Love, again for about two lines, again not explicitly but yeah, ah well, also (how did i forget to say) dont blame people for you killing yourelf-, also rated 'mature' because of the topic of suicide, and Kuroo is dealing with stuff-, and angst so (;, and good luck hehe, and then a wee bit of, but dont blame yourself or anyone else for a death unless you directly killed them, but how is 'siriusly' not a tag-), don't go knocking beakers off counters or pulling fire alarms this is a fic-, dont, enjoy (:, everyone after Yaku shows up for about two lines-, everything that's written can be absorbed in different ways after all, ft. me constantly adding tags (;, have fun (;, here things end mostly well and slightly ambiguous but, i mean... to an extent???, it is what it is haha, just a way that works for you, just good friends who turn into more, let me know if i need to add a tag! I'm sorry if I forgot anything, mostly angst though (;, not productively but everyone shows grief differently, please let me know!, please stay safe and heed the tags i'm sorry there's so many random ones-, read it how you want, siriusly, sirusly, sorry if i mucked that up :/, stay safe all of you (:, stay safe please (:, tagged as 'graphic depictions of violence' to be safe, tense changes, there is no 'right way', this is me angsting about Kuroken because always, this isn't meant to be a 'right way', unrelated, well dont kill yourself in the first place please-, wha-, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27720818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsidian_Arrowhead/pseuds/Obsidian_Arrowhead
Summary: A song fic of "You Said You'd Grow Old With Me", by Michael Schulte;Kozume Kenma is dead, and Kuroo Tetsurou is not.But now, how does he keep living?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	You Said You'd Grow Old With Me (but maybe it's ok if I grow old without you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya again! Yet another angsty fic for y'all to hopefully enjoy (:
> 
> Please heed the tags, I think this is... well maybe not the darkest but certainly the most in-depth angst I've finished? I think?
> 
> Either way, stay safe, and I love all of you <3  
> Don't ever think you're not worth it.
> 
> *suicide is NEVER the answer, believe me in this, please*
> 
> Also, there is no right way to grieve. The lengths Kuroo goes to to get out of school, when he quite probably could have just asked, are not healthy, they are just what happens. It sucks, and that is how he deals with it, however unproductive and dangerous it is.
> 
> A bit about this fic, if you're curious:  
> I wrote this over... almost three weeks? Well really a few hours over three days but there was a lot of time in between whoops, so if the tone changes weirdly that's probably why. I did actually proofread this time, though, so hopefully it's not all that jarring (:  
> And if it is, welp. That's me for you!
> 
> Also, I've so far published everything I've finished... well everything I've finished since The (little) Things, anyway, so that's why they've all come in the form of random one-off oneshots that I might come back to and also might not (; (that includes this one, because it could be an interesting universe, I think, and if I wrote without the song format I could add to it, but no promises (: ).
> 
> I've written a few songfics before, though I'm not sure if I ever finished one? This is definitely the first one I've published, though (:
> 
> Hope you enjoy (:

**I'd like to say, "I'm okay", but I'm not**

Kuroo Tetsurou has not said a word since that day, the day they’d gone down by the train tracks.

**I try, but I fall**

Can’t say a word, not for lack of trying. His last words were for his kitten, and his kitten alone (“Come on, Kitten-”). Now, he had nothing to say.

**Close my mind, turn it off**

What was the point in saying anything, anyway? Kenma would never hear it again.

**But I can't be sober, I cannot sleep**

His bed head has just gotten worse, recently, with him holding the pillows to his head all night long like his life depends on it. Kenma would laugh at him. Kuroo can’t bring himself to think about it.

**You've got your peace now, but what about me?**

_I’m sorry_ , the first note says, the one in which Kenma also says _I want him to come with me. I need him to come with me. Please_ . He doesn’t read the other one, the one meant for him, not yet, he can’t, but he reads the first one (the one that he’d found in Kenma’s room, with the words _‘For Anyone BUT Kuroo’_ written on the front). The second one he finds in his room, when he’s collecting what’s left into suitcases ( _‘For Kuro’_ , it says). He doesn’t, can’t go with Kenma. Not now.

**Thought we had the time, had our lives**

He can’t go with Kenma now, because he knows there is still a life for him to live, however pointless it might currently feel without his kitten. His Kenma. He thought Kenma would still be by his side, now, but it seems not. So he packs it up, gathers three suitcases worth of things. A Kenma suitcase, with the blanket and the jersey and the photos and the notes (the psp he adds the day he finally leaves, because he climbs through the window to Kenma’s room and takes the thing Kenma would miss the most - in a last-minute attempt at spite that will never pan out, because Kenma will never be there to glare at him again - takes a photo of the first note and prints it out, adds it to the suitcase). A clothes suitcase, with the clothes he is pretty sure Kenma never stole (because he actually needs to wear _something_ , and he can’t, not if Kenma had). And finally, a misc suitcase, with more clothes and some volleyball stuff and anything that isn’t _Kenma_ (of course, it’s all Kenma, because this is Kuroo and he is _Kenma_ , but Kuroo tries not to think about that (and fails)).

**Now you'll never get older, older**

On Kenma’s birthday, the 16th of October, same day as every year, he takes a photo by Kenma’s grave, adds it to the pile of photos in his suitcase (the Kenma suitcase, clearly). On his own (both his own birthday and _on his own_ ), he does the same. But it’s November 17th, and barely two months since Kenma had- _had_ , and this is when he ‘accidentally’ (he himself doesn’t know if it was done with intent or not, but the next thing certainly was, when he decided to _fuck it_ ) knocks a beaker of acid off the bench in his chemistry classroom, lets it splash through his sock and pants on his left leg, and walks out of the room, head held high, stepping on the beaker with a crunch and pulling the fire alarm for no reason whatsoever (no reason the school can fathom, anyway). It’s only after he gets a week’s suspension that he goes to see Kenma, like he does everyday (like he always had, every day since they’d met), just now without a reply and oh, it’s Kuroo’s birthday, how could he forget?

**Didn't say goodbye, now I'm frozen in time**

He still hasn’t said a word since his warning to Kenma, about the train, about the fact that it was really fucking fast and coming towards them and- _and_. Hasn’t said a word since the sentence he never finished. Doesn’t think he can (doesn’t see the point).

**Getting colder, colder**

December brings winter, and with it the knowledge that Kenma will never again complain to him about the cold. It’s Kuroo who freezes instead, alone at school and at home and at volleyball, everything and everywhere a reminder of the person who will never again warm up his life.

**One last word**

_Kitten._ The last word he’d ever said to Kenma. The last word he’d ever said, fullstop. Because now he can’t bring himself to say anything, not without his kitten there to hear it.

**One last moment**

The train is coming, and Kuroo makes a joke - some kind of joke - and he won’t remember what it was, but he will always remember Kenma taking a step forward, toward the tracks, toward the path of the speeding train. Will always remember himself grabbing Kenma’s hand, in an attempt to stop him, too shocked to say anything. Will always remember the look Kenma gives him, then the train, and then the moment of realisation. Will always remember how he pulls back just as Kenma pulls forward, with a strength he’s never shown before, not to Kuroo (and Kuroo’s seen all of it, it seems only fair he sees this too), how his hand in Kenma’s wasn’t enough. Not enough to stop anything but himself (minus his right hand) from being slammed full-force by the train that hasn’t slowed down, not one bit. Kuroo will always remember how he tells Kenma: “Come on, Kitten-” but unsure about where that sentence is going, because the millisecond that that last syllable leaves his mouth is the same millisecond that the back of Kenma’s only-just-dyed hair is whipped out of view forever, the same millisecond that he’s thrown about three metres to his right with the force that snaps his right forearm in 23 places (the same force that nearly gets his right arm amputated).

**To ask you why**

He wants to know why, he does. And he knows that the second note has the answers. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to know. Because Kenma had seemed it was pertinent to blame _him_ , in the other note, the one Kuroo had left on their (his, Kenma’s) kitchen table, closed like he hadn’t opened it, the one which becomes the last thing he’d touched in Kenma’s room until the day he leaves. He’s not quite ready to know if what that note had said is true or not (it’s not, he knows it’s not, that it can’t be, but… Kenma is dead. It isn’t as if he could just ask, not now. Not anymore. Not ever again). It isn’t as if anyone else would ever know any differently to what is in that note, anyway, not if Kuroo never tells them (and he won’t, because what’s the point in speaking?). He mostly wants to know why he couldn’t stop him, but… if Kenma doesn’t want them to know, they won’t, and he won’t, not about this, not unless it’s in that note, and he doubts that _this_ is. Because no one has ever been able to make Kenma do anything he doesn’t want to do, and it appears even Kuroo himself couldn’t force Kenma to continue living when he was too far convinced about doing the opposite.

**You left me here behind**

He’s been here, in their hometown, in some relatively off-the-grid place in the US, all alone. Having to walk their route to school, having to pass his house each day, having to go to volleyball and school and everything he’d never done alone. It is this that finally drives him mad, makes him lash out, makes his father actually exchange emotional words with him, makes him create the plan that works, after his initial ‘accident’. This staring that he does, at everything and nothing. At the park, at the gym, in his chemistry class, the library, their street, his bedroom- ( _his_ bedroom). The list goes on, and he can’t take it. Maybe this is why, when his dad gets home and he tells him about his suspension slightly too cheerily (the only thing he’ll have to see for a week is his room, which he’d already packed into three little suitcases), he doesn’t care that his father threatens him with the mother he’d thought to be dead (and it’s stupid, but something, that part of him that wants Kenma so bas it physically aches multiple hours of the day, says that _if his mum isn’t dead, maybe Kenma_ -... but that thought gets thrown out the window as soon as he sees that all-too-familiar scene play behind his eyelids once more. He’d been too young to remember anything about his mother, but he was never too young to forget anything about Kenma)... maybe this is why it spurs him on instead. Because the fact is, his room still hurts. Anywhere and everywhere in this stupid little town hurts, because it’s all him and Kenma. All of it.

**You said you'd grow old with me**

If Kenma had given up on him, then he was going to give up on Kenma - not really - but he _was_ going to give up the memories that threatened to choke him each and every time - not permanently - and he wasn’t going to just _forget_ , no. But he was going to leave this sleepy little town with its sleepy little memories, and he was going to go somewhere Kenma had never been before.

**We had plans, we had visions, now I can't see ahead**

It shouldn’t surprise him that he sees the words ‘to: Japan’ printed on the plane ticket his father stuffs in his hand, because afterall he is well aware that he’s fully Japanese. Kenma, too. _Maybe that was why they got along so well_ , was a common phrase spoken by the neighbourhood kids ( _as if_ , he’d want to tell them. Kenma was just his everything, that’s all (his everything, and that’s all, and now what does he do? When you don’t have your everything, do you have… anything? At all?)). And maybe the printed words don’t surprise him, but the weight behind them does. Because Kenma had always wanted to go to Japan, had forced him to speak almost purely Japanese with him (except for that one word, _kitten_ ), and had been the main reason he actually knew the language of his birth country (not like his father talked to him enough for it to stick).

**We were one, we were golden, forever, you said**

Kuroo had told Kenma how he felt, almost two and a half years ago. “I love you,” he’d said, and Kenma had replied “I can’t return your feelings,” but let him kiss him anyway (just once, and soft, so soft, and he’d felt so so bad about it later, and now-). Kuroo had said that he’d take Kenma to Japan one day, to the place he desperately wanted to experience for himself, to the place Kuroo had to admit he was a bit curious about. What kind of sad twist of fate was it that Kuroo had to go by himself, but with more Kenma in him than anyone else? Because Kenma had been Kuroo’s everything, was still his everything, and that had to mean something. It _had to_ , it just _did_. Even if he was dead.

**But I can't be sober, I cannot sleep**

On the plane across time zones and continents, the flight which lasts 13 hours and the train which takes another one and a half, Kuroo doesn’t allow himself to shut his eyes for more than the blinks the eyes of living humans require so as to not dry out (and how Kenma would laugh (in the Kenma-laugh way), if he’d heard that, but Kuroo just sighs, deep and painful, because Kenma’s eyes would never blink again (though technically it’s not the ‘eye’-), and _when had he gotten so morbid? Thinking about death at every turn-_ (Kenma would laugh at him for that, too)). He’d gotten good at not sleeping, afterall, at keeping his still-blinking eyes open, and despite the jetlag he drinks it all in, for Kenma, because he knows just how happy Kenma would be to be here (even if he’s currently six feet under and way too many miles away for it to count).

**You've got your peace now, but what about me?**

_Kenma will never be here, though_ , he thinks as he knocks on the door of what he thinks is his mother’s apartment - the handwriting is nearly illegible and the man who opens the door, well, he highly doubts this shorter-than-him, _blond_ , and distinctly un-Japanese (un-Asian, even) man is his mother. Kenma would do that thing with his face where it scrunches and then stretches, meaning either his face is itchy or he’s laughing in that Kenma-way of his. Kenma isn’t here, he reminds himself, as a feminine voice calls from inside. “Davey, who is it?” It’s English, and slightly slurred, and this is the first Kuroo hears of the mother he’s never met and doesn’t remember (doesn’t know anything about, because he’d been told she was dead his whole life-). ‘Davey’ is about to reply, opening his mouth, when she speaks up again. “Oh, Tetsu-chan! It must be you!” He hears a titter, and she gets off the couch, wearing a very skimpy singlet and little else. Kuroo stiffens as she hugs him, and he knows, just knows, that Kenma would be about to piss himself, were he here. _Revenge_ , Kenma would call it, even if there was nothing to be revenged, and go back to his game (to the psp currently in Kuroo’s bag). Suddenly, he’s very invested in what his mother is spouting.

**Thought we had the time, had our lives**

Both Kenma’s and Kuroo’s rooms had been quite similar, both relatively large, with a single bed in the middle, a few games (though of course Kenma owned more), some books (more in Kuroo’s case), a volleyball (or two), and clothes packed away in dressers or wardrobes (entirely Kuroo’s doing), sometimes a few posters on the walls (usually Kenma’s gaming posters). Kenma’s room also had a camera or two, set up for his future youtube channel _Kodzuken_ (Kenma hadn't uploaded anything, not yet, had said he was waiting, but for what Kuroo will never know, because _that_ of all things would not be in the clearly short note he has yet to read) and a laptop he used exclusively for gaming and recording said gaming. Kuroo’s new room has none of these things. Has nothing, in fact, but some shelves, a blow-up mattress, and the three suitcases he’d brought with him squashed in a row along the side. His mother adds two or so blankets a while later, apologising about the _literal cupboard_ , because _your father only called two days ago, what was I meant to do?_ Kuroo shuts the door, turns the light on, and can’t stop thinking about the fact that Kenma would never get to see this room (if it could even be called that). He’d also probably laugh at Kuroo’s plight, but Kenma and the fact that he’s _not_ are the reasons Kuroo is even here in the first place, so.

**Now you'll never get older, older**

His mother says she’s enrolled him in a school, says the year’s just about to start, he’s just in time, because here they start in April, not in August. Says that he needs a uniform (unlike his old school with Kenma) and that after an entrance exam he’ll be taking on the weekend they’ll stick him in a class and he’ll be good to go on the first day, in two weeks. It’s all moving so fast, as he gets his uniform, takes his exam, gets put in class 2-4 (mostly by luck, he thinks, because he hasn’t exactly studied, and he knows Japanese, but still, and… well. _Kenma_ ), and tries not to think about the fact that Kenma will never go here, never go to another day of school again. _Kenma will never enter the gates of Nekoma High_ , he thinks, sports bag over his shoulder filled with books and volleyball shoes he might not even put on, with chopsticks he barely knows how to use (knows the basics though, thanks to Kenma) and a box he is pretty sure is called a bento box filled with rice and meat. At least he can speak the language, he thinks, and has to thank Kenma in his head (again), even as he curses him out (again). _What fun_ , he thinks at last, settling into a chair at the back of the classroom with a tired half-sigh. Maybe he could get some sleep?

**Didn't say goodbye, now I'm frozen in time**

He doesn’t get any sleep, in fact. Doesn’t talk either, despite the questions directed at him. He hears the whispers, though, whispers of ‘what if he doesn’t even know Japanese?’ and ‘I kinda feel bad for the guy’, and knows they know nothing, so he doesn’t give them the satisfaction of an answer (not that he can, exactly). He only walks past the volleyball gym out of necessity, as it’s on his way to his new ‘home’, but as a ball flies out the door and he catches it while barely noticing that he has, he somehow lets himself get roped into joining. Joining a single game, he tells himself (but not anyone else), but then he’s _just_ joining a single full practice, and then joining the club altogether, and all pretenses (all those in his head, anyway) fly out the window. He still doesn’t talk, barely puts in any effort to anything, except perhaps kinda to volleyball, and belatedly realises he’s turned into some odd blend of himself and Kenma (he figures that it makes sense, considering he’s kind of living for both of them now. Doesn’t dwell on it too much, even when it’s been eight months, now that it’s May 27th. Tries not to think about it).

**Getting colder, colder**

He shouldn't be cold, logically. He knows this, but he still is, tonight on his airbed as he pulls the Kenma blanket around him, the hoodie once his then Kenma’s now wrapped around him again, a bit too tight but still comfortable, both articles still smelling of _Kenma_ . He’s just read the second note, his note, the one written to him. The one that says _it’s not your fault, Kuro, even though I know you did read that other note. I’m sorry, and I don't blame you but I do. I do, because I’ll never say that to you, because the day you told me you loved me was the day it started going downhill. It’s not your fault but it is because I need someone to blame and my parents need someone to blame and I know it’s very selfish but please, please Kuro. I know you understand. Please. I love you too._ It’s the note he dreaded to read, and the note which says about the same things he’d expected, and yet he’s still shivering, freezing, at the end of a reasonably blustery day and the end of May. _I love you_ , it says, and he’s both surprised and not. He reads the note again and again, in a jumbled mix of messy Kanji, Hiragana, Katakana, and English, so very un-Kenma yet so very Kenma that it makes Kuroo’s heart feel like it’s bleeding. Suddenly, he’s not so cold, but not so hot either, and he almost doesn’t recognise the feeling simmering up in him until he has the sudden desire to burn the note and everything that goes with it. He almost doesn’t realise, because it’s anger, and he’s never been angry at Kenma before (not even _then_ , on _that day_ , goes unsaid, as everything and everything else has, since then).

**One last word**

“You absolute fucking idiot,” he chokes out, in a voice both scratchy and painful and rough and deep, a voice that hasn’t been used in months, a voice the owner of whom’s last words were to Kenma and whose most recent ones were directed at the same person, just unheard, now (had they even been heard, then? The train-). “You complete and utter fucking _idiot_ , Kenma Kozume. Kozume Kenma. You-you fucking _idiot_.” The voice speaks in English (in the one language Kenma didn’t let him speak in), in some barely though-out revenge plot against the boy who owns his whole heart (the boy who’s dead), and the owner of said voice barely even has time to register that he’s broken his silence before he’s sobbing, harshly and loudly, and he’s more glad than ever before that his mother doesn’t come home till about two in the morning, usually, and that he’d managed to rescue a lock for his cupboard, because the only person he could possibly want to see him like this is the reason he’s crying, the only one who’s seen him do so before. Kozume Kenma, his everything, who he’s mad at for the first time in his life (and never had been during Kenma’s).

**One last moment**

He hadn’t been mad when Kenma had stabbed his new volleyball, a birthday present from his gran, with scissors, because it had been revenge for Kuroo breaking his game controller (he’d been sad, yes, and disappointed, but then he’d made pie and Kenma had got him a new one for Christmas, and it’d been fine). He hadn’t been mad when Kenma had said he couldn’t love him back, because he’d known (and still knows, now more than ever, really) that emotions don’t always work the way you want them to (it’d hurt, yes, but nothing had truly changed between them, and it had been fine (or so he’d thought), because he still had Kenma). He hadn’t been mad when Kenma had told some girl at school that Kuroo had a crush on her, in retaliation, something which was very much not true (Kuroo was and is still very gay), because said girl didn’t like him back anyway, it turned out, as she too was _one of the gays_ (he’d freaked out a bit, but that was about it, and in the end it was forgotten about, mostly). He hadn’t been mad in the countless situations that didn’t have a _because_ , either. Not when it came to Kenma (not when it came to his kitten). Kuroo Tetsurou had never before in his life, not even for a second, been mad at Kozume Kenma. Until now. Now, he is mad because Kenma had written _I love you_ , because it was too late and Kenma was dead and _he_ was a _fucking idiot_ . Kuroo might have even hated Kenma, his _kitten_ , for a moment or two, but before long he had cried himself into a sleep deep enough that he managed to miss school for the first time in years, and he was angry no longer. (He hadn’t been mad when Kenma skipped out on him, skipped out on school, because he thought he understood, on some level) (He hadn’t fully understood until now) (He still wasn’t mad, not about that) (Not mad) (Not anymore).

**To ask you why**

Why Kenma had decided to give him the best present of his life only when he wasn’t able to give a reply, he didn’t quite know. That was the single thing that Kuroo most certainly did not understand about Kozume Kenma, the fact that he could be downright cruel at times (not even the _why_ , just the _how_ ). Kuroo had never minded, before, but now...

**You left me here behind**

… Now, he was alone. Kenma was not here. Just the pictures, and the memories, and the grave that Kuroo had visited every day until he’d left (the grave he had more photos of that any other single place, because it was the only one he’d ever really returned to, other than his house, his home, school, or that park. The park he didn’t have any pictures of, other than a blurry shot taken from the taxi as he drove past on the way to the airport (on his way to Japan), and their rooms had been too… clear, to take any photos of (even now, if he closed his eyes, he could visualise every single inch of both of them). School he had one photo of, a selfie of Kenma in his arms under their tree, Kenma smiling his Kenma-smile and Kuroo smirking that little smile at Kenma, the one reserved for no one but his kitten. In the photo they look timeless, where they could have been any two people anywhere at any time, but just the fact that he will never be able to replicate the photo, not with the people, or the place (though it had been their palace, and they had been the unworthy rulers), or the time, or the _anything_ , is what gets Kuroo to put it down. He packs up the Kenma suitcase, complete with hoodie, blanket, notes, photos, and the psp he has yet to take out, and puts it back in its spot against the wall. Sighs. Turns onto his front. Shoves the pillows against his head, one either side. Falls asleep, _eventually_.

**You said you'd grow old with me, oh**

He has a dream, and in the dream there is a Kenma, an older Kenma, and an older Kuroo, and it’s some special kind of torture to see something that he’ll never get to see again once he opens his eyes (because he knows even then, in his dream, that it is what it is, nothing but a dream, and that it won’t ever visit him again). He makes the most of it, in this dream in which they are old and still together, in this dream where they are _together_ , together, in this dream where Kenma holds his hand and smiles, a proper smile, emotions clear and plain for all to see, and he finds himself smiling back. _I love you_ , dream Kenma says, and he’s able to say it back. Say _I love you_ , and not have to feel even an ounce of guilt, because Kenma had said it first. That is, in fact, the last thing he’s able to do, the last thing Kenma does, before Kuroo wakes up. His eyes are crusty with sleep and tears and his bedhead is probably more pronounced than usual, but he can’t bring himself to care (and he doesn’t, for the first time in a long time, think about how Kenma would laugh). He only stares to the side, at the Kenma suitcase, and lets the slow stream of tears pave tracks down, across his face. Feels them stop at one point, and gets himself up at another. Takes a shower. Washes the tears away. (Can’t wash away Kenma, or the dream) (Doesn’t want to) (Doesn’t try) (Just accepts, and lives in the moment Kenma won’t ever live) (In the many moments Kenma will never live).

**Thought we had the time, had our lives**

Because of Kenma, and his decision to end his life early, Kuroo is forced to adapt. He changes, and those changes aren’t always good. He had, in his attempt and ensuing victory to getting expelled, almost blown up the school, afterall (it had been an accident, a _real_ accident, that time, but also the final straw for them, and he hadn’t found himself caring at the time). Kenma doesn’t see this, won’t ever see this, and as it’s because of him that it happens in the first place it seems kind of… final, in a way (not at the time. At the time he just wants an out and if that’s what it takes, well-). Kuroo finds himself, that day, as he clears away tear stains, thinking that Kenma will never see another day again, never see him again, and it hurts, Oh God does it hurt, more than anything has before, _ever_ . But at the same time he finds himself accepting it as fact, the same way one plus one is two, and the same way he’d once called Kenma copper and tellurium in an ill-advised attempt to make the feelings work the way he wanted (which of course hadn’t worked, but maybe it had, sorta, and well, _fuck_ ). It had happened, and now he has to move on, has to accept it as fact. Accept the fact that Kozume Kenma will never see another day again, because Kozume Kenma is dead, and no matter how much he wants to, nothing Kuroo can do will change that. He can’t turn back time, and on that day he decides he’ll stop trying to. It’s not giving up, it’s not giving in, it’s simply accepting a fact that he had until now refused to look at. Kenma doesn’t have a life anymore, so Kuroo will just have to use his own to make up for that.

**Now you'll never get older, older**

And he does, oh how he does. First, May ends, and with it, on about the last day of the month, Kuroo finally manages to form a sound in front of people, still deeper than he’s used to, and slightly scratchy, and only a _you need to jump straight up if you want to get there in time_ called out on the volleyball court, but everyone's eyes bulge, turn to stare at him, and then, because they’re currently on a training camp and the matches have died down for the day, Fukurodani’s second-year ace bounces over to him, grinning. With the passing of June comes further training camps, and more words, though still sparingly used, but always deeper than they had been (and he still wonders what Kenma would think, of all this, and Tokyo, and- _everything_ ... but, he thinks he knows the answers, at least a little bit. Besides, the lesser amount of talking is totally a Kenma thing, so…). There is July, and it starts with the Spring Interhigh, which Nekoma somehow qualifies for despite not actually having a regular setter. They lose in the second round, not horrible considering it’s an _Interhigh_ , but really not great, either. Still, they’d never even had competitions like this in the States, and Kuroo saves his tears until he can cry them to Kenma in the dark of his room-cupboard, but also to Bokuto, when he calls, enthusiastic as ever, while Kuroo is still mid-cry. They go out for lunch, and Bokuto brings his first-year setter, Akaashi, and Kuroo thinks that this could be ok.

**Didn't say goodbye, now I'm frozen in time**

He will always think about Kenma, he knows, because it’s impossible not to, but slowly, ever so slowly, it gets easier. The _I love you_ will never leave his mind (and never leave Kenma’s lips, not again, if it ever had), but he thinks that he can learn to adapt, has learnt to adapt, already, at least partially, and it’s ok. It’s _ok_ . Kenma would have hated his ‘senpais’, he knows, and the part of him that is Kenma, now (all of him, because he is a package deal, even if he’s the only one who’s ever cared enough to know), has to agree. They really are quite horrible (and pretty cowardly, too, if he’s honest). But, he pushes through it, because he knows he would have got Kenma to, and he knows that you can’t make Kenma do things he doesn’t want to, and most of all he knows that he loves volleyball, that it’s there for him, and so, he stays. And then… then, Kuroo is made captain. It comes as a shock to him, considering he’d only joined them at the start of the year, and also _why aren’t the third-years staying?_ But no one else looks all that shocked, not Yaku or Kai, Yamamoto or Fukunaga, and there is a moment, after Nekomata-sensei announces it, the third-years having already disappeared, that Kuroo doesn’t know what to think. Then, they clap, and his back gets slapped, and it’s all slightly overwhelming. He’s the last left in the clubroom after their celebration, not unusual (being the last one, not the celebration, that had been… definitely unusual. But also welcome (also nice)). Then, somehow, he’s acting on autopilot, pulling out his phone and calling the person saved under the contact _Owl-bro_ , the person who picks up not long after.

**Getting colder, colder**

It’s still July, albeit nearing the second week, but still very much the middle of summer, and yet Kuroo still shivers when he hears the tinny _congratulations_ through the phone, because he has to know that that is what Kenma would say. Soon, though, he is pulled out of his head by the sounds of the present, and the owls on the other end of a connection that spans only a few miles, and suddenly he craves it, craves being with them, with someone (but mostly them), and so he asks if they could meet up. _Yeah_ , Bokuto says, _we need to celebrate!_ And Akaashi voices a quiet agreement in the background. Kuroo says _thanks, Bo_ , and is glad that it doesn’t hurt to honour him with a nickname, when he’d only ever used one for Kenma, before (both before and _before_ , because he hadn’t used one since _before_ , but he also hadn’t used one on anyone other than Kenma, _ever_ , so…). He pulls his jacket on as he leaves the clubroom, but by the end of the night it’s almost lost as all three of them crash at Bo’s place, a _thank you_ to his parents. It’s the first time Kuroo’s been inside anyone’s house but his own, since the day he’d left, and this time he doesn’t feel quite so sad about it. He’s happy, even. That warm feeling filling his gut and spilling out in the form of the hyena-laugh that hadn’t seen the light of day (or night, or anywhere in between) since… since even before _before_ , he realises then, because even when it had been _ok_ , even when he wasn’t mad because _emotions_ and _I still have Kenma_ , he still hadn’t been quite right. The realisation knocks the wind out of him, but then there is a pillow smacking him in the face, and he knows that the realisation had been coming for a long time, really, so he decides not to dwell on it now, taking the pillow and smacking both Akaashi and Bokuto with it. When he lies there later that night, using the same pillow to block his ears, he does let himself think about it, about his not-so-sudden-but-definitely-a-long-time-coming full and all-consuming _happiness_ . Now… there is sadness, somewhere, but it’s trumped mostly by the knowledge that he’d finally gotten back to it, to this level of utter _euphoria_ , even after so long. And so, he falls asleep, smile on his face and warm feeling filling him up from head to toe, full and happy for the first time in a long time (but certainly not the last. _Far_ from the last).

**Just one last word**

August comes, and with it there is more of that happiness. The happiness that feels warm, and full, and comes around not just Bo and Akaashi, but Yaku, Kai, volleyball, their team, school in general, _Nekoma_ , his captaincy, the Fukurodani Academy Group, and even in his room-cupboard, after a good day, or on a phone call, or… and it is so, so nice. But it is still fleeting, although coming more and more often, and then September comes. Kuroo had never had a problem with September _before_ , but sometimes (and it had happened ever since, but now more often than ever, even then), because of the time, and the weather, and because of the… Kenma, Kuroo will flinch at the sound of a loud car, or work himself into a panic on the train, and it’s only when he refuses to go meet Bo and Akaashi, because he’d have to take said train, that he actually acknowledges that this is _not so very good_ . When he wakes up on the 27th, exactly a year since Kenma had- _had_ … exactly a year since Kenma had walked in front of a train, and killed himself, and exactly a year since Kuroo’s arm had nearly flown off, and exactly a year since Kenma had made him watch, exactly a year since Kuroo had said, “Come on, Kitten-”, and then been silenced by that train and his whole world shifting on its axis, contorting and rendering him speechless for the first time in what Kenma would have said was _since he’d met him_ , if he’d been there to say anything at all. Everything is all at once, the memories and the sound, and the apartment is both too silent and much, much, too loud, and Kenma had never been here but he’d known, had always known, where Kenma had wanted to go. The first place he’d said, back when they were children, but still old enough for Kuroo to remember. The Sky Tree.

**One last moment**

He’d avoided it up until now, because he’d thought it would be too painful, and it is, very, and he has to take a train and that might be the worst part, but he gets there, has to wait a while because it’s only seven when he does, but he buys a same day ticket, and goes up, and ignores the few times his phone beeps at him because he is here, where Kenma had wanted to go most, and it’s not to spite him, but maybe it is. Maybe. Maybe it is. Whatever the reason, the view is still absolutely breathtaking, and he stays up there for the better part of the day. He has until ten, that’s when it closes, and he intends to use the full time. At twelve, though, when he’s just spotted _something_ down below and immediately thought of Kenma, of how much he wants him to be up here beside him, has just remembered how very impossible that is, his stomach growls, and he realises he hasn’t eaten all day. At the same time, he finally takes his eyes off the view, and down to his phone, and calls Bokuto back for the 16 voicemails he has from him, and messages from other people. Bokuto picks up, immediately, and Kuroo does a double take because he doesn’t think _anyone_ has ever picked up that fast. Not for him, anyway. He belatedly realises he’s never been the one to call before, not Bokuto, at least, except for when he’d become captain (and almost had a panic attack in the clubroom), but then his thoughts are derailed by Bo’s voice coming through the phone, asking _where are you_ and _are you ok_ and _everyone’s been super worried, you never miss school_ (he had, once, but that was… ‘before’. Not before Kenma, and not in the States, but back in May, four months ago, the day after he’d read Kenma’s second letter; the one that said _I love you_ ). _Oh_ , he says, not confused but actually yes, slightly confused, because he’d been happy but he hadn’t realised that they’d… that they’d cared as much as… as much as he had. Hadn’t realised that _they care_ as much as _Kenma had_.

**To ask you why**

_I’m up the Skytree_ , he says, because it only seems fair, and then he misses everything else Bokuto says with the ensuing thoughts of _Kenma wanted to come here… did he want to jump? Am… am I supposed to jump?_ And then he wants to punch himself, because _fuck_ if that was gonna happen (not today, or any time soon, or ever, he doesn’t think, he hopes not, regardless of whether or not he ever actually comes back up here). _Dude, Kuroo_ , Bokuto says in his ear - yells in his ear - and then Keiji’s voice joins in. _Kuroo-san, why are you at the Skytree? It’s the middle of a school day_ . It is said slightly sternly, with an ounce of annoyance, and Kuroo can’t stop himself laughing because _that was a perfect impression of Kenma_ . Then he realises he’d called Akaashi by his given name (even if just in his head), and he stops laughing, enough to hear Akaashi ask _Kuroo-san, are you alright?_ He doesn’t know how to respond, though, doesn’t exactly know the answer, not today, so he just makes the same noise Kenma would make when he couldn’t find the words; a kind of _hm_ , but without any of the finality of a confirmation. _We’re going to come find you_ , Akaashi says, and then the line goes dead.

**You left me here behind**

They join him at the top of the Skytree, where Kenma will never come to, but he thinks that he can finally be… mostly _ok_ with that (really _ok_ , this time), because both Bokuto and Akaashi are there, the latter with a phone to his ear and someone who sounds distinctly like Yaku on the other end. Kuroo smiles, _they’ve found him_ , and promptly says _Kenma would have loved you guys_ . It’s the first time he’s spoken Kenma‘s name - his kitten’s name - since… since. It’s been a long time. And it feels so right, to tell these people, the people who have made him warm and happy and full and just… alive. So he does, he tells them all about Kenma, the good parts, and the bad, but not about the love, and not about the notes, and he finishes with _he died a year ago… that’s why I moved here_ , without once mentioning exactly how or why Kenma had died. Those are conversations for another day. But right now, with Bo and Akaashi ( _Kou_ and _Keiji_ ), he feels like it’s enough.

**You said you'd grow old with me**

Kenma had said a lot of things, in his life and after it, and Kuroo would never quite forget the raging inferno when Kenma’s _I love you_ had been communicated in only written word, too late, and would never quite forget the realisation that he’d never quite been full since Kuroo himself had said it, aloud, almost three years before. Kuroo would never forget Kenma, even as the days turned to weeks turned to months turned to years, and then a decade, and then two, three, four, and then even when he is old and grey. Kuroo Tetsurou could never forget Kozume Kenma. Even as he forgot the little things (the exact pitches of Kenma’s voice, or exactly what they’d do in their sleepy little town in the States, or anything else that felt like that, that felt both momentous and fleeting), he would never forget the impact Kenma had had on his life, like ripples in a pool once you splash into it (which is kind of a ridiculous simile because Kenma hated getting wet). He never forgets. But he does, eventually, figure out a way to live in the present, with both the knowledge that he can’t rewind time and the knowledge that there are other people out there, people like Kou and Keiji, people who he just knows Kenma would have loved, and people who he loves, too. And these people, they say it first. And he says it back, barely ten seconds later (after the initial what-the-fuck- _yes_ -but- _whatthefuck, finally_ \- YES). These people, they fill him up, with warmth and happiness, and they are there when he needs them to be, and he’s there when they need him to be, too. They stay, and they grow old, together, and it’s everything he’d ever wanted, really, just with different people, and with two instead of one, but it is still absolute bliss, every minute of it. Even when it doesn't feel like it. _Especially_ when it doesn’t feel like it. Because they are there, and he is with them, and what more could he ask for, really?

**Author's Note:**

> (And then, Kuroo gets to see Kenma again, eventually, after a long road, and with Keiji and Kou at his sides.
> 
> … maybe he has a thing for people whose names start with the letter ‘K’.)
> 
> .
> 
> Kenma baby I love you- I'm sorry-
> 
> And Kuroo sweetheart I love you too I swear (this is why so many of my drafts are about you-)-
> 
> Kuroken is one of my favourite ships of all time, and currently my favourite of all (though I'm also quite partial to BokuAkaKuroKen), but... somehow? This happened, whoops.
> 
> I don't entirely remember how this came about, just that originally (or in a completely different version) Kuroo moved from Japan to the US after Kenma died, and everyone was at the same school, and it was cute but here was a distinct lack of volleyball, and so at some point I flipped it so they start off in the US and... yeah. Oikawa and IwaOi was an idea at some point, too, which I mean I could still add... possibly (; (again, no promises, but we'll see).  
> Also I know more about Japan's school system and how it'd work over there than I do for the US right now, considering I've never been to either place haha.  
> (also I have no idea about volleyball in the US but I don't think it's much of a thing so-)
> 
> Also I think most things would end up the same as canon after this, except that well idk exactly how well Nekoma would do at nationals without Kenma because that one first year... Teshiro? I don't know enough about how he plays as setter to be able to make that call (or enough about volleyball in general, I mean I'm clearly no expert haha). Though saying that, this Kuroo would probably have the same game strategies as Kenma? Possibly? And I don't know about Hinata but, welp ah well this is why I said no promises because then I'd actually have to figure out what'd happen next hehe (;.
> 
> Also also (these notes are so long I apologise), I now (since writing the bit about the Interhigh) know that Nekoma hadn't been to nationals for five years before the 2012 timeline of seasons 1&2 but... AUs? Oops- (basically I'm too lazy to fix it I hope you can forgive me) (oh and speaking of fixing things I'm not gonna do anything about The (little) Things until someone points it out because it's kinda funny to me... again, whoops).
> 
> Also, IMPORTANTLY, suicide is never the answer. Kuroo realises this, and I hope you can too. Please reach out, if the need arises. I know it's scary and terrifying, but it helps. Trust me (:. You are not alone, and you never will be, no matter how it feels.
> 
> I love you all <3
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Stay safe out there!
> 
> Obsidian.


End file.
